All That Remains
by Pseudonym McAlias
Summary: The sky spilt open. Corypheus on the warpath. The Inquisition struggling to maintain any control. Hawke comes to Skyhold and she isn't alone.


**Disclaimer: I apologise in advance for being extremely unreliable.**

 **Frost**

"Honestly Hawke we've been walking for hours. Can we at least take a break?"

Marian closed her eyes and sighed. Her headache was worsening. It was true; they had been walking for what seemed like days. At first, they had been cheerful and talkative, but as time wore on, their words dwindled to grunts of affirmation that they were doing ok.

"We're almost there."

"Bullshit. You said that when we passed the last mountain. Two hours ago."

Again, Hawke sighed. The biting tone of her lover's words told her she was angry, or at least the fatigue and monotonous plod had coupled, putting her in a bad mood.

Marian stopped and turned to face her. "Isabela…"

She rolled her eyes, "Oh don't give me that. I have blisters on my blisters and my feet ache. Besides," she pointed directly upwards, "No one will be waiting up for us at this hour." Sure enough, the sky was a dusky grey, only illuminated by the great green wound, which gave everything in sight an eerie glow.

"I said I would be there today. We're already late. Corypheus won't wait-"

"Oh shut up about bloody Corypheus. He's all you ever talk about now."

"Because he's trying to destroy the world!" Hawke said incredulously.

Isabela's expression was icy. "We killed him once. Didn't work. Now a new bunch of people want to try, and good for them. That doesn't mean we have to put our necks on the line again. You don't have to help."

"I want to help. You didn't have to come along."

A snide reply was on the tip of the pirate's tongue, but seeing the look in Hawke's eyes turned her mind against it. She knew the look well. Hawke was far too determined at times. She wouldn't let something go until she had seen it through. There was no arguing the point, as Aveline had found when trying to reason the eldest Hawke out of knocking back another bottle of Antivan whisky, having discovered that Isabela had fled Kirkwall. Even then, she had been adamant that the raider would swagger back through the city gates one day, and that she did.

Isabela frowned nonetheless. "Did you pack something warm for the moral high ground?"

That made Hawke's features soften. She walked over and wrapped an arm, albeit spiky from the armour she'd been wearing, around Isabela's shoulders.

"I pack in layers. More so than you anyway."

Isabela's mouth flickered. She was trying not to smile, but Hawke's proximity was comforting in the presence of her throbbing feet. Her clothing had evolved a little since her time in Kirkwall. Having had to attend a party in Tevinter, and not particularly relishing the idea of greasy magisters eyeing her up as so many did, she'd dug out a long cerulean coat embroidered with gold epaulettes. She'd received one very like it as a gift many years ago but it had been lost with The Siren's Call. This she found at a Nevarran market. She had, much to the surprise of her companions Varric and Alistair, worn brown trousers also. These were at the bottom of the ocean by now. She'd been planning to wear them for their journey today, but had tossed them overboard after Hawke joked that Corypheus might be offended by such a provocative display of flesh. Isabela had gained earrings following on from her recent promotion, and a fine feathered hat. It was

large, to flaunt her rank, but surprisingly light. A cluster of black feathers sprawled out the end, soft to the touch. She'd already caught herself on more than one occasion stroking the burgundy hat fondly. It was worn more as a sign of prestige then for practicality's sake. In a fight, she usually tossed it to the side before it got dislodged by a sword or dodge anyway.

Hawke's words were somewhat accurate. Isabela had worn the coat but omitted the breeches in exchange for her notorious boots that climbed to her thighs. The Champion had made no secret of the fact that she liked Isabela in her Admiral hat, so it had been packed in the bag with their other supplies. In short, the raider queen was not dressed for their surrounding landscape. The closer they got to Skyhold, the more snow they encountered. The temperature had dropped greatly since they disembarked from the Captain's ship. Hawke was wrapped up in the armour a grateful acting-viscount had rewarded her with after thwarting the Arishok. It protected her body from the cold but left her head at the mercy of the icy wind.

"I know a good way to warm both of us up." The Rivaini eyed the Champion coyly as she kissed her cheek. She thanked the gloom of the evening that Hawke couldn't see the flush on her cheeks.

"Not a chance."

"Awww but there's no one-"

"I'm not risking frostbite just to get you off."

Isabela huffed a wistful sigh, but she was hardly surprised. The weather did not allow for ideal conditions. "Probably for the best," she said dryly, "you haven't got much else going for you anyway besides your face. Best not to risk it." She winked and took the lead, trudging on through the snow.

Hawke watched her move off for a moment, grinning, then followed suit.


End file.
